


Champagne

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-30
Updated: 2006-07-30
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: She knows she should make him stop; this is wrong. Instead, she moves against him even as she pushes him away.





	Champagne

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: For [](http://aqua-chuu.livejournal.com/profile)[**aqua_chuu**](http://aqua-chuu.livejournal.com/)‘s [image request](http://www.livejournal.com/users/inell/383827.html?replyto=4296531)  


* * *

She knows she should make him stop. This is wrong, so very wrong. She doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him, doesn’t want to feel like this (doesn’t want _him_ to make her feel like this). The champagne is cool as it cascades down her breasts. She wants to cover her chest, knows her breasts are too small, not big enough, just average like the rest of her. Instead she lies there and gasps as his warm tongue follows the path of the champagne.

“I want to get drunk on you, Hermione,” he whispers in a deep voice, dangerous voice, dark and full of promises she doesn’t want him to keep (wants him to keep, needs him to keep).

She looks at him, so big and strong, rough palms and hard muscles, intense gaze as he lowers his head. He doesn’t look away as he licks the champagne from her nipple, bites her skin, makes her whimper. He sucks her nipple and his hand drifts across her belly. Her robe falls from her shoulders as he presses her against the wall, the floor, legs spread around him as she tries to get away (moves closer). Her hair sticks to the stone wall behind her, the floor is cold beneath her thin robe. In the distance, she can hear the sounds from the party, Slughorn’s loud laughter and music.

His hand moves into her knickers, his fingers tangle in coarse curls no other hand save hers has ever touched, and she moans as his finger lightly brushes across her clit. _No, stop, can’t do this_ , she says in her mind. To him, she says, “Yes, please, more.”

He’s too big, makes her feel so small (she’s not petite, just average, always average), and his hair tickles her breasts as he moves lower. She can’t look away. Theoretically, she knows what he is going to do but she never thought it would be like this. Dark corridor in the cold dungeons, snow outside, people right down the hall (they could be caught, what would people say, it’s exciting and frightening and she bites her lip to keep from crying out). She’s imagined red hair and a crooked smile, not wiry hair and an arrogant smirk.

She closes her eyes when her knickers rip, mouth open in a soft gasp as champagne spills on her belly and drips between her legs. His tongue is there, licking her clean, sucking and nipping, tasting. Her fingers grip his head and force him closer. “Cormac,” she whispers into the quiet corridor as his fingers press against her. She knows she should make him stop; this is wrong. Instead, she moves against him even as she pushes him away. She lets him taste and touch (enjoys the sensations that are even better than her fantasies). She fights him just enough to make him growl and lick harder, hold tighter.

_Hate you, want you, hate you, need you, more, please, yes._

The champagne is cool against her heated skin.


End file.
